


That's enough

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another take on the idea of 'Prince Optimus'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The abduction

“Ironhide, why did you stop playing?” Optimus flickered his optics, realizing that he didn’t know how long the old guard had been playing, or when he had stopped. His thoughts had been so caught up in the journey he was supposed to take the next orn. Maybe he had even recharged a bit. 

Flushing a little with shame he turned around and sat up only to face an unknown mech’s abdominal plates. Red, black and pewter grey, interlocking like those on any warrior. He looked up to a stern face plate, handsomely cut, and met the narrowed red optics. 

“Who are you?” Fear was fleeting, what did he have to fear here at the royal hunting lodge after all? Nearly a full orns travel from the boarder. And they were at peace with all the lands around Iaconia! 

“I am your new guard captain. I fear that your planes have changed, you must come with me now. We shall meet up with your brother, Prince Sentinel, at the border into Kaon.” A large black hand, oddly shaped but in the half dusk of the room and worried as he now was Optimus paid it little heed. 

“What has happened, tell me?” It could not be that great Kaon had refused the peace treaty? He knew he was only a sixth Created but surly he was still… oh! It did not matter now, worrying could be done later. 

“I cannot tell you, I was simply ordered to retrieve you, Prince.” Maybe if he had been less worried he would have noted that the ‘guard captain didn’t say ‘my Prince’ or even ‘Prince Optimus’, but he was too worried even as he attempted not to worry. 

“Very well then, please let us begin the journey. All my things have already been packed.” Gesturing to the corner where his three packs were stacked he missed the way his new travel companion raised an optical ridge at the meager belongings. He did not much care for items and had only taken things he thought might please the one mech it was so important to please.

Best not to think about it, or he might overheat! It had been very difficult to pick out clothing and jewelry that might make him look… sexy, in the optics of a mech he had never seen and barely heard of. 

“As you will it, Prince.” Gesturing a couple of dark plated, dark clad guard mechs towards the packs he offered Optimus his arm and escorted him out. Several more guards stood outside the room, all dark plated and dark clad but that was not wrong. This was a hast mission, it stood to reason it was to be somewhat stealthy too. 

And yet this deviation from norm stirred the first true misgivings in Optimus. But he was still too worried about his brother and those so vital negotiations that he pushed them away and let the strange giant of a guards Captain guide him out of the hunting lodge and into a closed, but luxurious, wagon pulled by the biggest, blackest mechasteeds he had ever seen. 

Much later he tried to open the door, wanting merely to ask how far they had to travel before he could have a bit of fuel, and realized it was locked. His beginning misgivings sprang to the forefront of his processor and solidified into terrified knowledge… 

Kidnapped! 

Oh his poor brother. The negotiations! What was he to do… what would be done to him? 

But he was not a Princeling with no education and no grip on his emotions. He allowed himself to panic for only a few breem and then pulled himself together. 

He was a Prince of Iaconia! He would meet this challenge with his chin up and his wits about him! No one would fault him for how he conducted himself though this ordeal.

And he would not show any fear…


	2. Showing resistance

Optimus sat stiffly on the comfortable plush pillow that had been put on the grassy fallen crystal trunk he was sitting on. For some reason his kidnapper preferred to keep up the imaginary of being an Iaconian Guard Captain. That was… well it was creepy and disturbing and he wasn’t going to help him!

He was angry! Wanted to jump up and punch the smug looking, very clearly _not_ Iaconian, darkly colored mech. The mech was huge! And those odd looking hands? Claws… what kind of mech had claws, and fangs! His paint was dark red, deep black and pewter grey with silver highlights that seemed to form a pattern of some sort. He wore a short black cape with crimson lining, wielded twin swords that had clearly been forged for him and him only. 

Whoever he was… he was high ranking military of some sort. And devilishly handsome, but that was something Optimus knew he shouldn’t be noticing. He just couldn’t help it… 

He had never seen many mechs and all those he had seen where in his Sire’s service, or was his family. This journey was to be his first one out of the castle, maybe his only one outside of any castle. Who knew what the Kaonite ruler would do with him if he accepted his hand and spark? 

Optimus was well aware that his Sire would have preferred to offer someone a bit more important than his sixth Creation in this treaty but Sentinel was first Created, and so out of the question, and the other four was already pledged. Northerner Kaon had just not seemed a priority to Iacon’s ruler. 

Nervousness led him to take refuge in bad manners. Or at least manners and words he would never have chosen otherwise.

“How dare you, ill-bred yokel that you are, to do this to a Prince of Iaconia?! I should be hasting on to meet with my brother. We should be visiting with our northern neighbors and conclude with them the peace treaty with Kaon! If I am late… my brother will be in a bad political situation! And I will make you regret it! Do you really think me so pampered that I cannot see that you are not my Sire’s guards? That I am not supposed to travel this road with you? Answer immediately! Or I shall see to it that you are well punished you for your impudence when you get caught!” Optimus rather expected the imposter to explode at him. Hoped to at least gain some information of some sort, even if it also gained him dented plating. He could neither one nor the other. 

“I'm terribly sorry, Prince, but you are mistaken,” the big mech bowed elegantly, but not very deeply. “Your brother was compelled to speed up the negotiations, send for you earlier than expected. I admit that we are not Iaconians… but your brother, Prince Sentinel, has sent me and mine soldiers to accompany you up to northern lands that boarder Kaon. We accepted the mission and hastened to fetch you, in hindsight maybe not the wisest choice.” The tone of the dark voice held… a purr, warm and full. That was as scary as anything else about this whole thing!

“I am merciful, and therefore I forgive you for this incompetence. But you will immediately lead me to my brother! I do not want to be late if it is indeed true that you were to get me there before time. But why was I not allowed to retain my own guards?” The red optics followed his smallest move, as if assessing what danger he might pose. Or maybe it was the glare of a predator about to pounce… 

“We left a message for them to follow as quickly as they could pack up and saddle their beasts. I am confident they are just a half orn or so behind us on the road. We left a mech to guide them, but you need the best warriors here to protect you in case of trouble,” a smile curled the thin scarred dermas just a little, sending chills up Optimus’ spinal struts. “After all the way is long, difficult and at time dangerous out here in the wild.” 

“Fine! Now stop staring at me… you have the optics of a predatory beast! I do not like any of this.” He turned away resolutely, crossing his arms over his chest plates to hide his shivering. 

“Of course, Prince.” If he had been looking at the other mech he would have seen his small smile turn into an anticipatory grin… And seen the red optics narrow in appreciation as they traveled down the slim, gorgeously proportioned and richly clad form of his chassis before they looked away. 

Less than a breem later they were on the road again.


	3. Revelation

The journey was long indeed. And harrowing on the young, innocent prince’s nerves. He strayed little from the protection of the closed wagon and took as little as he could from his captors’ hands. Fuel he had no choice about but he drank as little as he could get away with. He refused coolant and instead drank some of the water that they passed. A perfectly acceptable substitute

Now that they were ‘here’ that was not an option any longer. 

‘Here’ was a richly decorated room in a beautiful castle build in rust-red, black and silver-grey glassmarble. It was even more beautiful than the famous white palaces of Iacon. The architecture would have fascinated him no end if he had been able to appreciate it. 

Instead of the graceful slender towers topped by bulbous spires, gently curved archways that ended in sharp points and large, broad openings made to catch the cooling brises on hot late light cycles this castle had thick crowned towers on which guards stood. It had doors which peaked sharply and windows with crysglass set into frames of a material Optimus didn’t know.

This castle was surrounded by lush forests, gardens and a beautiful foreign looking city. All of it was so much different from Iaconia’s more subdued colors and dry, hot climate.

“I knew you were a fraud!” sitting on the edge of the lush berth Optimus was too afraid to even note the new attire of his captor as the mech entered the room. Of course he had not been taken to see his brother. He didn’t know where he was, only that it had taken them about seven orn to bring him here. That was a long way indeed!

“Why did you bring me here? If you are trying to blackmail my Sire I can tell you it won’t work! He will not pay you a ransom or do an~” He was flattened against the covers of the berth, the large warm form of his captor pressing him into the softness. 

“That is _enough_ , princeling! No more games... It's seems that you don't understand where you are, so I will tell you.” It might be a snap but spoken so close to his audio receptor it was more like liquid sin. Especially as he could feel the larger mech’s voice vibrate his plating. So deep, dark… like sweet energon syrup. 

“This is _Kaon_ , I am a Warlord Megatron, Emperor of the northern kingdoms! And you are my prisoner, little princeling... I can do whatever I want to you.” Optimus could do nothing but whimper in confusion as one of the big hands shifted to stroke naked hip joint. How he wished he had made quite different choices in selecting clothing now. “You are mine…” The other’s… Megatron’s dark smile was easy to hear, he didn’t have to look. 

Wait?

“It can't be… You can't be...” Why would the Emperor kidnap him? He had but to wait and Optimus would have been brought right to his very door step. 

“But I am. And I can see that you are in drier need of some manners! I can assure you that I will be able to instill them in you.” The dark, frightening, purr was back, making Optimus squirm to get away from his captor. His distained mate… oh this was so confusing!

“I don’t understand! You had but to wait, I was a part of the peace treaty price…” and right now he was too close too… too much. 

“And you think so little of me that I would simply go and take any mech as mate? Without knowing what kind of spoiled little brat I would be bound to? Without knowing if the images I was show, were true?” he knew he was being mocked but as the straying hand began playing with the peal frills on the short loin cloth he was wearing he couldn’t help bolting. This time successfully. 

“You, my lord, are putting words in my vocalizer! I am not spoiled, I am not ugly and I have only been rude because you deserved it!” he was shivering, but did not know if it was fear, anger or something else entirely that fueled it. “And what have I learned of my future mate? But that he is a brute who does not mind resorting to underhanded means to get things his way!” It did not look like the warlord minded his outburst. The smug little smile on his dermas testified to that.

“If it was not for my home realm’s best I would ask never to see you again!” That earned him a bust of hearty dark laughter. 

“I fear, princeling, that you do not have the power to do so here. But I will be fair and let you have some time for yourself. You have a mechservant assigned to you, simply ask him for items and he will retrieve them for you.” The large mech, Emperor, rolled off the berth in a smooth move and walked towards the door. He paused before activating it, looking back a little thoughtfully. “You may go as you please within the castle walls.” Then he was gone and Optimus was left with only his confused thoughts as company.


	4. Upholding Traditions

Optimus had had four orns of ‘time for himself’, and had thoroughly played the part of spoiled princeling. Not to the servants though, just to Megatron… 

Picking up the data pad he had received from ‘his’ mechservant on his first orn here, he scanned the list of titles again. 

_Emperor Megatron of Kaon, Duke of the Tran region and Crystal City, Marquis of the Smelting Heights, Earl of Hexagon forest, Viscount of…_

Optimus growled and put down the data pad. Megatron was rich, he was powerful, he ruled over lands that they didn’t even have names for in Iacon. 

He would have gone to him gladly as part of the peace treaty, happy that he could spare his people any harm a war would have cost. But this? Taken without consent and for what… so he would not think ‘little’ of Megatron. That at least had been the answer he was awarded when he questioned his new lord and master. 

As if he did not think little of him now! 

“My lord, you have been summoned.” Optimus felt like growling at the poor servant too, something that showed how far out he was, but instead he just rose, made sure he clothing was in order and walked out the door with his head held high. 

He felt so terribly self-conscious about his clothing. Normally he wouldn’t have minded, but given his current circumstances? If he had joined the negotiations as planned he would have had time to figure out what would be appropriate clothing for this northern kingdom! Instead he was wearing things that did not fit in at all, and that great lug of a supposed Emperor had not even sent anyone to help him adjust his wardrobe. 

And he had been too proud to ask. Primus be damned! He was a Prince of Iacon, not some unfortunate harem lover begotten with spark! 

Outside his door waited a very tall and slender purple mech with no face, a very forbidding mech to look at whom he had seen before on his few attempts to take a walk, and what looked to be a full squadron of guards. Everyone was bigger than him of course, even the mechservant he had been given. The black armored guards took up position, half in front of them and half behind them, and off they went. 

Did no one here care that he knew nothing of them? The least this new stranger could do was present himself, a polite bow did not help much!

He was escorted though the palace by this silent entourage, temper, fear, and apprehension fighting for access to his carefully blank expression. What had the Emperor planned now? Optimus felt little confidence in his ability to guess true…

They stopped outside a pair of impressive doors, by the look made entirely out of electrum, fitting for an Emperor he supposed. As soon as they began to swing open noise assaulted his audio receptors, happy noise… a celebration? 

“And here he is! My consort to be,” a hush enveloped the revealed room, the throne room if Optimus wasn’t guessing wrong. He was rather disconcerted at the expressions suddenly directed at him though… Happy, yes, and anticipatory. More than one set of dermas stretched in a grin that seemed more lecherous than just happy, it was downright creepy. 

“My lord, your consort to be, the Prince Optimus of Iacon, sixth mechling Carried from the CNR of the Great King Ultra Magnus.” The slender purple mech, for all his oddities, had a pleasant voice. He dismissed the guards and led a scowling Optimus up to stand before the throne. 

One throne. 

“Welcome to my realm, Prince Optimus.” glaring at his supposed mate, dermas pressed flat Optimus refused to give in to his temper any more than he already had. 

“It is an honor.” One he could have done without… where was he supposed to sit?!

“I am sure,” the fragger, Emperor or not, had the gall to sound amused, “now that the peace treaty is signed and I have the right to claim you,” Megatron rose, his cape artfully falling into place around his broad back. Optimus had no idea what to expect and so stood his ground. A mistake. 

“What!” he was swept off his pedes in a moment, and settled on the lap of the Emperor in the next. Helplessly, sort of, stuck with one leg on either side of Megatron’s, too widely spread open for him to just push away.

“What is the meaning of this? I don’t…” ignoring the all too approving roar of the gathered mechs he hissed up at the Emperor, blue optics narrowed to angry slits. 

“Why, traditions, princeling. The tradition of Kaon’s rulers… From the time that they were clan leaders, warlords, and a mate had to be claimed the moment he was won. My battle with your Sire may have been done by way of data pad but it was still a battle, and you have still been won…” a smirk formed on the narrow dermas. “You are a fine price, little princeling, and right here on the battlefield too…” the squeeze of a large hand on his aft made him press closer with a jerk and small, half strangled cry. The noise didn’t get to grow or travel, for his dermas were taken in a possessive kiss. 

“We can hardly disappoint my people, your people… now can we?” Optimus was dimly aware of the roaring approval from the crowd, the hand supporting him and the hand that traveled from his aft to his hip, unlatching the thin chain belt that held his flimsy loincloth up. He wrenched away to try and keep it on but it was too late, and his attempted was greeted by the crowd's anticipatory laughter. 

“You are insane if you think I’lMUHF,” another kiss strangled his words and he bit as best he could at both dermas and large glossa, stemming his hands against the broad chest plates to get away. Dignity be damned! 

Megatron responded by pulling him in tight, his legs protesting the angle they were forced into with a painful twang. 

“Let go! I can’t…” snarling, rather loudly this time, he clawed at what circuitry he could get to. He’d not actually been trained to be a fighter, but he knew how to pleasure, and to stop before pleasure became pain. It was a no-processor to turn that around. It earned him a hiss and a few grunts of pain, and then his arms were roughly pulled away, forced back around his chassis. 

“Oh, but you can!” before he knew it he was tied up with his own much loved electrum jewelry. 

“Little cybercat, my princeling? In temper and actions… it only makes me sure I did right in choosing you, life will certainly not be boring!” Optimus hissed and struggled only to earn a rough amused laugh from his so called ‘conqueror’. 

“Too perfect!” he was lifted again, turned to kneel on Megatron’s thighs. Facing the crowd of onlookers he felt honest fear and a strange thrill. They were looking on in anticipation, envy, avarice, and lust. It was thrilling and humiliating all at once.

A large hand pressed on his chest plates, the other cupping his codpiece and hot interface panel. He was pushed back into Megatron’s chest, bound hands forcing him to arch and show off his pelvis, more or less covered as it was. 

“I didn’t want the trained lapmech, little princeling, why would I want that when I can have this… your struggles are so sweet, arousing me more than any trick you might know.” Optimus really didn’t want to think about the words, or the amused dark tone the Emperor used. “And I do think you like being on display?” He whimpered at question, not sure what to answer.

He didn’t really like the hungry optics… but there were other things he liked, even if he did not want to. Like the way those big clawed hands felt on his plating, the way the deep velvety voice rumbled though the chest he rested against. The heat that build in his own chassis, a sweet promise of things to come. 

“That’s it, let me in…” the honeyed tone of the suggestion had him complying before he consciously realized what was being asked of him. The sharp tipped finger suddenly invading his most intimate part jolted him back to reality. 

“Megatron!” the sharp cry only earned him a rumbling growl and a bite to one of his delicate audial fins. Another finger and a lick to the back of his neck made him shudder and whine helplessly. He didn’t want the Emperor… did he?

It was confusing, his senses and his chassis telling him one thing, his processor knowing something else. But he had been a part of the peace treaty, and it was done… he had no right to fight? But he wanted to! 

And it was so hard to think with what Megatron was doing to him. His fingers felt so big, he knew how to touch, how to use those claws… 

He… 

“Ahhh!” It hurt, much too big… too… 

“Relax, princeling…” another sharp nip to his audial fin, his neck, his shoulder and, dear Primus! How could it fit in him? 

Head lolling forward, Optimus found himself staring down at where their bodies joined. He was stretched obscenely wide and Megatron’s spike was not all in, not by far. He was still on his knee joints on the larger mech’s thighs, like this he wouldn’t be able to take the entire spike… was that? 

Energon? 

“Mine.” Dark satisfaction saturated the tone. “No one can claim I have not marked you, as is tradition in your new home I have claimed your seal in full public, Prince Optimus,” his vents hitched, the words and their meaning burning into his memory blocks, never to be erased. 

“Ride me,” it was a request but he didn’t get to answer it on his own, the hands that had kept him trapped now helped him move. He was grateful for it, the pain was something he had expected, though not the energon, during his seal breaking. The pleasure was… less expected than hoped for, and quite disabling. “My consort to be…” 

Other words followed, dirty ones, praise and promises, even in a room full of onlookers they were words for him alone. Spoken in that velvety whisper he knew would be his final downfall, and possibly his way to redemption. 

He knew he screamed the Emperor’s name, knew he did as he felt and heard the other’s growl of completion. Felt the hot flood of transfluid filling him for the first time…

Darkness followed, for which he was grateful as he did not know how to face anyone after this, much less how to face himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the artist megop_murr_miay (LJ)/Murr-Miay (DA) 
> 
> Made for [Young prince in trouble](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/Young-prince-in-trouble-161036570)   
> Made for [Negotiations](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/Negotiations-161633217)   
> Made for [That's enough](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/That-s-enough-254455863)   
> Made for [Are you surprised](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/Are-you-surprised-278735118)
> 
> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
